


Onigiri for the Broken Hearted

by novocaine_sea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi has foot-in-the-mouth syndrome, Anxiety, Awkward Flirting, Canon Compliant, Confrontations, Frottage, Getting Together, He's a mess y'all, M/M, Overthinking, Past Relationship(s), Sexual Content, To timeskip at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22941589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novocaine_sea/pseuds/novocaine_sea
Summary: Since his breakup with Bokuto, Akaashi hadn't been with anybody in any capacity in two years. But then he met the man behind Onigiri Miya, and the temptation of onigiri was almost too much to bear.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu, Past Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou - Relationship
Comments: 91
Kudos: 628





	1. Onigiri Miya

**Author's Note:**

> I promise this isn't crack. But it was born from a shitpost that I sent to Kate, and then it sent us straight into this hell. It should only be two chapters, but we'll see how out of hand it gets...

Akaashi dreamt of Bokuto that night. This was a frequent occurrence, especially during times of high stress, like when he was editing manuscripts until two in the morning every night. Bokuto had always been his sunshine and though they’d only spoken a handful of words to each other in the past two years, the sentiment remained. Bokuto was home, and he would always provide comfort, whether Akaashi was conscious or unconscious. Akaashi would have preferred not to dream of him at all, but when you’ve been in love for that long it was kind of hard not to.

At least his dreams didn’t allow him to relive the break up. It wasn’t horrible; in fact, it was an amicable split. It was just the fact that Akaashi hadn’t wanted to break up that made it hurt so much. Bokuto insisted it was for the best at the time; he had just been recruited to the Black Jackals and Akaashi was hard at work as a literature student. Their schedules barely overlapped and they had no time between studying and practice. It was only fair to them. But when you loved somebody for  _ so long _ (Akaashi had loved him since the first time he laid eyes on  _ the  _ Bokuto Koutarou in middle school), it was hard to let go. Having no contact whatsoever was the only way Akaashi could really try and mend himself. 

After that, Akaashi threw himself into his work and miraculously landed a job right out of college at a publishing company. He’d hoped to be in the literature department, but ended up with a shonen manga magazine. He got to work with Udai Tenma, which was exciting in that Tenma was on the brink of exhaustion-related-death every waking moment. Akaashi never had a dull moment and it reminded him a lot of high school in a way, but manga editing still wasn’t what he wanted to do. He had hope, however, that if he worked hard enough that he could be transferred eventually. Whether that was next week or in five years was the true testament of time.

Akaashi still went to support Bokuto’s games. Volleyball would always be exciting, and Bokuto’s volleyball especially was always fun. He was alive on the court and anybody who was anybody could see how he really shined. He got the crowd off their feet, got them clapping for his serves and his spikes, and had them laughing with his goofy antics. It never failed to put a rare smile on Akaashi’s face, though he was learning to smile more freely nowadays. 

There was, however, another incentive to go to Bokuto’s games. Even if he had to travel far to get there, it was always worth it to get onigiri from Onigiri Miya’s. Akaashi was convinced they made the best onigiri in all of Japan, but there was no onigiri branch around yet in Tokyo, which was extremely disappointing. 

He stepped up to the booth one game, looking past the owner at the menu before turning his gaze on him. The two just stared at each other for a moment. Akaashi had almost forgotten that this was  _ the _ Miya Osamu, brother to Black Jackal’s infamous setter, Miya Atsumu. Onigiri Miya was at every game, supporting his brother and making a big profit from it. Akaashi liked his demeanor a lot more than Atsumu’s; Osamu was relaxed and kind to his customers, whereas Atsumu seemed to get a kick out of talking down to people. At least that was how it seemed in interviews. Or maybe Akaashi was just biased because one, he knew Atsumu was a better setter than him, and two, he really did love Onigiri Miya’s food. 

“Still no Tokyo branch I’m assuming?” Akaashi asked as he passed over three hundred yen. 

Osamu shook his head, a small smile on his lips, “Not yet, we’re working on gettin’ a location there.”

Akaashi nodded and his eyes lit up behind his glasses when he saw the onigiri nicely wrapped. He immediately took to unwrapping it and taking a bite, humming happily, “You make the best onigiri.”

Osamu stared at him amused and he placed his hands flat on his counter, leaning on them a little. The customers had stopped coming steadily, as the game was starting and most people were in their seats by now. Akaashi chose to hang back, not yet ready to see Bokuto, always having to prepare himself since the breakup. 

“So I’ve been told,” Osamu said, still gazing at him.

Akaashi dug into his pocket, feeling a sudden surge of confidence as he pulled out his business card, “When you finally open up a shop in Tokyo, please let me know. I’d be happy to accommodate you as well.”

Osamu looked down at the business card with a chuckle and a raised eyebrow, flipping it over in his fingers, “Akaashi Keiji, hm? Fukurodani’s former setter is askin’ me out, what an day.”

Akaashi could feel the warmth flood his cheeks and his mouth hung open. There were a few little rice specks dotting his lips and he licked them up, trying to keep his mouth occupied while he groped for a response. “I didn’t... I wasn’t...” Akaashi couldn’t finish that sentence so he did the next best thing: he turned around and walked away. He could hear Osamu’s laughter (or was it really Osamu’s?) behind him and he picked up the pace, slipping into his seat and shoving his onigiri in his mouth. Akaashi knew he was awkward, but he didn’t really think he was asking Onigiri Miya out on a date. Or to his  _ apartment _ . Akaashi hadn’t touched another man since he and Bokuto had broken up. That was two years of no physical contact with anybody else romantically.

He didn’t want to date Osamu. He just wanted the food he made. Akaashi could justify it like that because it was the truth. Sure, Osamu was handsome, he had a strong jawline and he finally wasn’t dying his hair that awful bluish-gray that he remembered it’d been in high school. He had a lazy look in his eye but it was clear he was a hard worker if his business was booming as it was, though Akaashi suspected that was half because he was Atsumu Miya’s twin brother. Maybe he did want to ask Miya Osamu out, or hook up with him. Maybe he would get a Tokyo branch sooner that way.

Akaashi hurried to his seat, hoping that his rush would make the flush on his cheeks look a lot more natural. They were going through the starting lineup and there were a lot of familiar faces on the court: Hinata Shouyo, Hoshiumi Korai, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Kageyama Tobio, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Miya Atsumu, and of course, Bokuto Koutarou. He even did the flip that he always did to hype up the crowd. It was ridiculous and a quiet laugh slipped from Akaashi’s lips. It happened on more than one occasion during the match, but that was to be expected. Bokuto always made him laugh like no other, even after all these years. 

When the match was over, with the Black Jackals claiming victory, Akaashi was one of the first people out of the stadium. There was no way Bokuto would have known he was there anyway, but Akaashi needed to be sure. Besides, Akaashi could have sworn that on more than one occasion Bokuto’s head had swiveled to his area of the seats and locked in on him. It gave him a rush, the sweaty palms that came with adrenaline, which just made Akaashi zip out of there faster.

He returned to his dull life as an editor, working crazy hours and barely getting paid for all the overtime he put in. His thoughts of Bokuto lingered and reminders of Onigiri Miya popped up on his Insta feed whenever he remembered to check it. It was just pictures of the food he sold, but Akaashi hoped to one day see an announcement that they’d be coming to Tokyo. Akaashi would give anything, and it was a bonus if he got to see Miya Osamu as well. 

His prayers were answered a week later. His cell phone started ringing while he was at work and he glanced at it curiously, the number flashing across the screen unfamiliar to him. Something in him made him pick it up, “Hello, Akaashi Keiji speaking.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for some time. Akaashi was about to repeat himself when the mystery person finally spoke, “ _ Akaashi. This is Miya Osamu. _ ”

Akaashi sat up a little straighter at his desk, a few of his papers shuffling at his sudden movement. His coworkers glanced over but quickly looked away, their own work a lot more important than whatever Akaashi was up to.

“Onigiri Miya.”

A laugh sounded from the other end of the line, low and husky, and it made Akaashi flush once more as he recalled his final words to him at the Black Jackals game. “ _ That’s me, yeah _ .”

“May I ask why you’re calling?”

“ _ I distinctly remember you offering a place to stay if I ever opened a shop in Tokyo _ .”

“Oh. Yes, well-” Akaashi cut himself off this time, alarm bells ringing in his head. “You’ve opened a shop then, I’m guessing.”

“ _ Yeah. I’ll be in town for the next few days and need a place to crash.” _

There was no way Akaashi could take off of work that many days, and he didn’t necessarily want a stranger in his home. But this was Onigiri Miya, who had the best onigiri in all of Tokyo. Akaashi thought he could make an exception. “As long as there’s onigiri.”

Another laugh, another hitch of breath, “ _ Sure. _ ”

“Then you can message me the details at your earliest convenience.” Somehow this had turned into a business transaction. Akaashi could deal with that. Normal feelings? That one was questionable. 

“ _ Mm’kay. See ya soon, ‘Kaashi-kun.”  _ The line went dead but Akaashi practically stopped breathing. The nickname was all too familiar to him, something Bokuto used to call him. Bokuto didn’t call him anything at all these days, but it still sent a prickly feeling up Akaashi’s spine. It had been two years since he had any romantic or physical contact with anybody. Work was the only thing he was in a relationship with. With just the way Osamu had said his name, he was a prospective candidate for Akaashi to date next. He already had an advantage of being able to cook, which Akaashi could not to save his life. He could make rice on a good day, and often spent most of his paychecks on take out.

The days leading up to Osamu’s arrival were stressful and busy. Akaashi had a lot of work to get done, both at his job and his apartment. He never noticed before but it was in a state of disarray; he hadn’t remembered the last time he vacuumed or washed a dish, but all of that had to get done. Many people thought of Akaashi as somebody who was composed and tidy, and normally that was true, but some days he was just  _ frantic _ .

There was also the fact that Akaashi had invited a  _ stranger  _ to come share his apartment with him. What was wrong with him? Akaashi asked himself that everyday, as he scrubbed his shower and vacuumed his couch. Was he that desperate? And for what? Food? Sex? Akaashi was getting ahead of himself thinking that there would be any funny business going on. Akaashi was always strictly business, and besides. He’d never been with anybody but Bokuto. He’d always been too nervous to try and reach out to anybody else. And the whole thing with him still being in love with his ex, but you know, he was working on it. He could block it out most days. 

And then one night there was a knock on his door. Akaashi had been staring unseeingly at his wall for some time, leg twitching anxiously, fingers and nails picking at cuticles and dead skin. He had no idea how this was going to go, if it was a good idea or not. Was he going to get murdered? Maybe Onigiri Miya only fronted as an onigiri shop and really had a taste for the art of killing. That just made Akaashi panic more. He could practically hear Konoha and Komi laughing at him from a distance. He would never escape their teasing.

Akaashi jumped about a foot high when he heard the knock but he quickly composed himself into the stoic, hard-working man people had come to know. He hadn’t had a full on panic like this since Nationals his second year. He opened the door, revealing Miya Osamu himself on the other side. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder and was holding a brown paper bag wrapped in plastic in the other, and the unforgettable smell of onigiri permeated the air.

“Yo,” Osamu nodded his head at him, a small grin appearing on his face. Something about the small gesture made Akaashi blush and he blamed it on the adrenaline rushing through him. Osamu was dressed casually, which Akaashi had never seen, so used to seeing him in his uniform. It was only a blue-checkered button down and ripped black jeans, but he made it work. Akaashi’s blush definitely got darker.

“Hello,” Akaashi’s mouth was dry and he licked his lips to no avail. Osamu raised an eyebrow and he looked past him before meeting his eyes.

“Can I come in or am I gonna to sleep in your hallway?”

Akaashi tugged his sweater’s sleeves over his hand and stepped aside for Osamu to come in. He averted his eyes as he closed the door, trying not to overthink the fact that Osamu was assessing the apartment, which was an extension of him. 

“Nice place ya got here,” Osamu finally said, having taken off his shoes and carried his things a little ways into the apartment. He looked around and poked his head into the kitchen, finally setting the bag on the counter.

“Um, thank you.”

“Expected ‘lot more from a hot shot editor.”

Akaashi snorted and he flicked his finger over his nose a few times to mask it. “I’m not a hot shot editor.” 

“I looked you up ya know,” Osamu turned to look at him with a smirk. Akaashi stopped breathing, again. “You’ve only been in the business for a year? An’ you’ve got an impressive track record.”

“I’ve been... lucky that way.” Akaashi said carefully, averting his eyes. He didn’t want to pour out his own life story, not this early at least. Osamu didn’t need to know that this wasn’t what he wanted to be doing. He wished he was chasing his dreams like Bokuto, or maybe even Osamu himself. “Can I get you something to drink?”

The two of them settled in at the dining room table to eat the food Osamu had brought. It wasn’t just onigiri, but a whole spread of food that made Akaashi’s mouth water. Never had he been spoiled like this and he almost thought for a second that he could get used to this, but there was nothing to get used to. Osamu was visiting and then he would be gone. That was all there was to it.

“What made you finally open a Tokyo branch?” Akaashi asked halfway through their meal. 

Osamu wiped his mouth with his napkin and waited until he’d swallowed to answer the question. “Had a lot of persuasion,” he winked at Akaashi, which almost sent the latter into cardiac arrest. Who knew Osamu was so sly? “And finally had enough money. Helps when your brother’s a famous athlete who can give ya loan. I’ll have to pay him back, but for now... Onigiri Miya is here.”

“Hopefully to stay,” Akaashi added with a kind smile. He’d definitely be frequenting the Tokyo location, but would be sad when Osamu wasn’t there. He mainly worked at the stadiums his brother played, or sports events in general. It was how he got his name out there and Akaashi would never want to take somebody away from their business.

“I’ll come visit more,” Osamu assured and Akaashi flushed, gulping down his water. He was thirsty, and embarrassed. The more he talked with Osamu, the more he realized how well they got along. They both had a connection to the Black Jackals as well, though Osamu would likely only think Akaashi’s connection was that he used to set to Bokuto. He’d like to keep it that way.

“What made you want to start your own onigiri shop?” 

Osamu sighed a little as he leaned back in the chair. He toyed with his own glass of water, a little disappointed to find out that Akaashi didn’t have any stock of beer in his refrigerator. But after looking, there hadn’t been much in the refrigerator at all. “Always been a dream of mine to have a restaurant, or be in the food business. It was ‘Tsumu’s dream to be a volleyball player, but he always wanted me by his side. He was pretty mad when I told him nah, I’m gonna do my own thing ya know?” He laughed a little, a quiet but rough sound that went straight through Akaashi, “I remember, sittin’ in the gym with him one afternoon and tellin’ him that I was done with volleyball, I really meant it that time, an’ he got pissed. He told me I wasn’t gonna be happy like that. So I told him, when we’re old geezers that was the only time he was allowed to laugh at me if he thought he was the happier one.”

“Do you think right now you could tell who’s the happier one?”

Osamu rested his cheek in his palm, mimicking Akaashi’s posture, “Yeah. And I know it sure ain’t him.”

Akaashi laughed with him this time, though it was only an exhale of air through his nose. Osamu sounded so haughty with that, that he could have sworn he was talking to Atsumu himself. “Volleyball isn’t everything unless you make it everything. To me, that doesn’t seem so fun.”

“Ya get me.” Osamu nodded. They locked eyes for a moment before Osamu continued, “Is that why ya quit?”

Akaashi’s plate was empty but he wished he had more food to stuff his face with so he didn’t have to answer the question. Not that he minded, but with Osamu staring into his soul like that he was feeling shy. “No... I wanted to focus on other things in university. Plus, it wasn’t quite the same without my teammates.” He was talking specifically about Bokuto. Bokuto was the light that sparked life into Fukurodani and though Akaashi tried to maintain it when he graduated, it never felt the same. They were still a powerhouse, yes, but without Bokuto, they weren’t as strong as they could have been.

“It’s never the same when the third years leave,” Osamu said solemnly, and he must have had senpai who were dear to him too. It was strange, talking to somebody who had the same experiences as you, who branched off from all they lived for in high school, but lived in completely separate areas. There was a part of Akaashi that wondered if maybe Osamu was just saying what he wanted to hear, but he couldn’t picture him as a manipulative person. 

Nevertheless, the conversation between them was easy. Akaashi felt as if he could pour his heart out to Osamu and though he’d probably get teased, he knew Osamu would be taking him seriously. When was the last time he had a heartfelt conversation with anybody? He’d closed himself off to most people long ago. Konoha made attempts but Konoha was not to be trusted with personal information, or in general, because then Komi would know and Sarukui and Washio too. 

“Did you want me to set up on the couch?” Osamu asked when the night was winding down and they were cleaning the dishes. Akaashi hadn’t asked for help, but they’d simultaneously set up a system where Osamu would wash and Akaashi would dry, putting the plates away. There weren’t a lot of dishes, thankfully, so it was a pretty speedy process.

But, Akaashi had started to panic. He didn’t want Osamu out there by himself. He could snoop around, not that Akaashi had anything particularly criminal in this apartment. He actually didn’t have anything incriminating anywhere. It was just books on top of books and manga too. It was research, he insisted, but he did actually find some of the stories compelling and relatable. 

“The couch is broken,” Akaashi blurted out. He closed his eyes in his own embarrassment. Why had he done that? Why, why, why? How could a couch be broken?

Osamu’s eyebrow rose and he peaked around Akaashi to gaze into the living room at his perfectly functioning couch. “I don’t see anything wrong with it,” he pointed out.

Akaashi bit his lip. “Well. It looks fine, but it’s broken. You’ll have to sleep in my bed with me.”

Alarm bells sounded in Akaashi’s head, practically begging him to stop now. Why couldn’t he just shut up? First he’d invited a stranger into his home, and now he was inviting said stranger into his bed. He’d never been so impulsive in his life, but then again, Akaashi really hadn’t been living much of a life for the past two years. With Bokuto gone left all the excitement and spontaneity in Akaashi’s life. All he did was come home after work, maybe read and eat, and go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. Weekends were spent editing manuscripts. The only time Akaashi truly lived was when he went to an MSBY Black Jackals game. And even then he was on the edge, because what if Bokuto knew he was there? It would be awkward, and Akaashi was already awkward enough.

“Well, I won’t say no to that,” Osamu smirked and Akaashi flushed an even darker shade of red than he was already sporting. “Are ya goin’ to show me to your room?”

Akaashi swallowed thickly and he turned on his heel wordlessly, marching Osamu to his bedroom. It was neat and tidy just like the rest of his apartment, save for a dirty pile of clothes in the hamper in the corner. There was a sock hanging from the edge and Akaashi cursed himself for letting it look like that. Osamu looked around and gingerly set his bag at the foot of the bed.

“Thanks for letting me stay with ya. Ya wanna come to the shop with me tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. Did Akaashi have work tomorrow? No, he panicked and had taken off work, because he didn’t want Osamu to be alone. And now he was going to go on a date with him. It was a date, right? Because this was Akaashi’s favorite food place, so surely it was a date.

“Sure,” Akaashi shrugged casually and grabbed for his pajamas, “The bathroom is down the hall to the right if you need it. I’m gonna change first, feel free to change here.” He spun around again and headed for the washroom, shutting the door behind him and making a beeline for his sink. He splashed cold water on his face, hoping it would cool him down, but it didn’t really help to chill the embarrassment burning through his whole body.

He took longer than usual in getting ready for bed, wanting to avoid Osamu as long as possible. He was grateful his bed was big enough to fit two people and still have some room in between. Akaashi could just stay as far away from him as possible without actually falling to the floor. With determination in his eyes, Akaashi made his way back to his bedroom carrying his day clothes, stopping for a moment in the doorway. Thankfully, Osamu was dressed in basic pajama pants 

and a plain navy blue t-shirt, but somehow he still looked handsome. A lopsided grin appeared on Osamu’s face when he saw Akaashi.

“Thought ya fell in.”

The heat in his cheeks was back and Akaashi stumbled over his words, “No... I um... just... washing up...” 

Osamu chuckled and he raised an eyebrow, the only response given to that. He walked past Akaashi and the bathroom door shut behind him after that. Akaashi sunk down onto the mattress and put his face in his hands, groaning a little. What was wrong with him? He had never, ever been like this. Maybe once long ago when it came to Bokuto, but not as bad as this.

(That actually wasn’t true; Akaashi was a man defined by his panic and overthinking, as much as he liked to deny it. He liked to assess and calculate every possible outcome to every situation. But this? This was beyond those calculations, and a lot more than his brain could handle.)

When Osamu came back from the bathroom, all that was on was the tiny lamp beside Akaashi’s chosen side of the bed. Akaashi was tucked under the covers, back to the door, his heart hammering in his chest. It was so loud and violent that Akaashi was sure it shook the bed, but Osamu didn’t say anything as he got in beside him. It was quiet, the only noise the sound of blood rushing through Akaashi ears as his anxiety set in deep within his chest and the pit of his stomach. He was in bed with some stranger, in some sort of twisted one night stand.

A shaking hand poked out from underneath the covers and turned the lights out, but Akaashi was too jacked up to really fall asleep. Osamu shifted every now and then beside him. Was he as uncomfortable as Akaashi? He seemed to like the prospect of sleeping in the same bed as Akaashi, but maybe he’d hoped for a little more. Akaashi would be lying if he said he didn’t yearn to be touched. His body ached for it. 

Osamu was still for a while, which made Akaashi think he was asleep. He was kind of glad, though he knew he was far from reaching the same state anytime soon. His heart rate hadn’t calmed and he was afraid he was going to send himself straight into a heart attack. Or another anxiety attack. Akaashi didn’t want to get up either, lest he wake up Osamu. He really,  _ really  _ should have thought this through more.

“So... are we just going to lay here or are you going to make a move?” A voice cut through the darkness and Akaashi tensed up even more than he was. The voice sounded closer, indicating that Osamu had rolled over. Akaashi hadn’t even felt him the bed dip or hear it creak. He was silent for several long moments, hoping if he didn’t say a thing that Osamu would think he was asleep. Kind of like a possum, playing dead. That was his logic here.

But the thought made Akaashi’s head spin a little more. He’d invited Osamu over, into his  _ bed _ , of course Osamu was going to expect  _ something _ . And it wasn’t like Akaashi didn’t want to do it. He just...

“I don’t know how,” Akaashi blurted out, ruining his cover of playing possum. It was Osamu’s turn to be silent for several moments and Akaashi could feel heat at his back; Osamu was close and Akaashi was sure he would pass out from his anxiety alone.

“Well I know how,” Osamu’s voice was breathy and quiet, but only for a moment, “If ya want. Or we can cuddle. Figured ya didn’t just get me in yer bed to go to sleep...”

But Akaashi had, because he was oblivious  _ and  _ innocent half the time. It’d been so long since he’d felt even an inkling of want for somebody, but Osamu was pulling it out of him.

“I want you.” Akaashi was known for being blunt and direct, but not when he was feeling flustered. He was proud of himself. 

There was a hand on his hip and gently Akaashi was coaxed into facing Osamu, though he could barely see him in the darkness of his room. But he was close, Akaashi could tell by the breath fanning against his lips and the heat of a chest near his own, “Are you just saying that for free food, or do you really want it?”

Akaashi licked his lips nervously, but also in anticipation, “I really want you, but the free food would be nice too.”

“You can have all the free food you want.”

Akaashi was going to add that to the list of:  _ Sexiest Things Anybody Had Ever Said to Him.  _ But for now, he found the confidence to make the first move and draw Osamu in for a kiss. He could feel Osamu’s hand move under his shirt and up his side, igniting heat in its wake. Akaashi felt as if he were drowning within the kiss; two years he’d gone without any sort of contact and here he was, kissing a stranger. He thread his fingers through Osamu’s hair just to have something to ground him. It was only a matter of time before Akaashi lost himself in the feel of it all. He was still careful however, making sure not to get too much into it.

But apparently Osamu didn’t like that because Akaashi found himself on his back and Osamu above him, one leg slotted between his own. Nothing about it was rough, but it was a clear message that Osamu wanted him just as much as he wanted Osamu, and Osamu was going to make Akaashi feel comfortable. The hand at his side pushed his shirt up, tracing over every inch of skin, exploring. Akaashi sighed into the kiss, lips drawing on distant memory to remember how to move against another’s. His own lips parted though and Osamu took the opportunity to slip his tongue between them. Akaashi could barely move, but suddenly there was a fire in his belly and his desire outweighed his hesitation. He arched his back, all he could manage for now, causing him to grind inadvertently against Osamu’s thigh. A small moan slipped between their kiss and Osamu tensed under him. 

A switch flipped and Osamu pulled back from the kiss to attach his lips to his neck, his own hips grinding against Akaashi’s thigh. The lips on his neck are doing wonders to him and Akaashi was already gone the moment plush lips touched his skin, sucking hard to make a mark. Akaashi hated that sort of thing, but he would deal with it in the morning. For now he focused on grinding against the sturdy thigh between his legs, one that was pressing harder and harder, giving him the pressure he needed. He was hard, but so was Osamu. The temperature in the room increased around them as their arousal made itself known. 

Time seemed to trek through molasses as they rocked in unison. Osamu’s fingers traced over every part of him, landing in the hem of his pajama pants, beginning to curl his fingers around it. “Ya wanna go further?” The words were spoken into his neck, each one sending a tingle down Akaashi’s spine.

“Please,” Akaashi breathed, desperate for more, more, more. He didn’t realize how much he’d yearned to be touched like this. 

Osamu let out a moan, deep and raspy and Akaashi could’ve come just from that. If that wasn’t what did it, then surely Osamu’s hand around him would. But he was determined to last. 

Unfortunately, Akaashi didn’t realize just how far gone he was. Osamu peeled back his pajama pants and his boxers, cupping a hand around his erection. Akaashi had forgotten what another’s touch felt like down there. It was electrifying. Osamu seemed to be skilled in this department too as he flicked his wrist just the right way on his first couple of pumps; that was all Akaashi needed to let go. He spilled over Osamu closed fist, thigh jerking against Osamu’s own erection. Osamu let out a choked, surprised moan and Akaashi’s eyes opened just enough to see Osamu’s face contorted in pleasure. His rocking was clumsy and Akaashi slumped back against the pillows trying to catch his breath. Everything went so fast, it was basically over in the blink of an eye.

“Huh,” Osamu murmured once it was all said in down, slouching a little as he sits back on his calves. “Haven’t came in my boxers since high school.” He laughed softly at himself, and it only grew in volume. The sound was infectious and Akaashi cracked a smile, covering his mouth as the laughter flowed out of him easily. He felt light, lighter than he’d felt in months, maybe even years. Maybe he’d just needed to release some of his sexual tension. 

The two of them eventually moved to clean up, the light flickering on. Akaashi’s embarrassment was mild as they wiped themselves down, Osamu going to change his boxers after soiling them. Akaashi laid there with the covers pulled to his chin, feeling giddy. He’d done that. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

Osamu flopped back onto the bed moments later and he gazed at Akaashi with those sleepy eyes, “I’m kinda glad your couch is broken.”

Akaashi opened his mouth to argue that it wasn’t broken, but then he remembers the big fat lie he’d told to get Osamu in his bed.

“Yeah. Me too.”


	2. The Other Miya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi meets Atsumu, with disastrous results.

Meeting Atsumu ruined everything. Not at that very moment, but the outcome of meeting Atsumu was disastrous.

But before that, there was some rewinding to be done.

After Osamu’s stay at Akaashi’s apartment, he’d gone to show Akaashi his Tokyo storefront for Onigiri Miya. It was a small shop with space for only a few tables on the inside and outside, but it was cute. It was exactly what Akaashi would have expected this place to look like. It was cafe style, but onigiri was meant to be eaten on the go. Akaashi liked that there was the option to lounge around though. If he had time, he’d be spending it here. Especially if Osamu was here. 

But Akaashi didn’t have time, and Osamu had to go. They’d spent a couple blissful days together and then the fantasy was over. No more bed sharing, touching, _kissing_ , things Akaashi hadn’t experienced in over two years. He hadn’t wanted it to end. Thankfully, due to modern technology, they had the power of text messaging and calling. Even if Akaashi was exhausted he would fight it so he could talk to Osamu for a little while.

It was fun. They got along well, almost too well.

Akaashi started going out to stay with him on the weekends. Osamu’s apartment was nice and always smelled delicious, since he was always cooking. They’d watch movies, ones Akaashi would never think to watch on his own. Osamu was into action movies, with a little romance sprinkled in there, because no movie could go without a little romance nowadays. Akaashi preferred psychological movies, horror too. Osamu appeased him, but not without gripping on to Akaashi’s arm whenever there was a jump scare. It was cute, really. Akaashi enjoyed it, it made him laugh.

With Osamu, came his brother though. They were twins after all, and it was inevitable that if all of this were to continue, Akaashi would have to meet Atsumu. But the thought was terrifying to him, mostly because with Atsumu there was a direct connection to Bokuto. Atsumu knew the both of them too, from high school. He would know that Akaashi at least was friends with Bokuto. And Akaashi just couldn’t risk it getting back to his ex boyfriend that Akaashi was hanging out with Miya Osamu. Not that he and Osamu were together officially, but it would be enough to raise eyebrows to Bokuto.

Of course, Akaashi didn’t expect one of his peaceful weekends to be interrupted by Atsumu bursting through the door. And he meant it, he burst through it, so forceful that Akaashi was surprised the door didn’t shatter under his touch. 

“‘Samu! Where ya at? Haven’t been able to get in touch with ya for... days...” The joyful smile on Atsumu’s face slipped off. Akaashi could almost see it splatter on the floor. “You’re not ‘Samu.”

Akaashi stared for a moment. Atsumu stared back. They assessed each other. Akaashi didn’t know how to handle this situation and he could feel the panic beginning to set it. That was never a good combination. Uncertainty and panic always made Akaashi’s word vomit worse.

“I am not,” Akaashi said slow, simple. If he kept his answers to three words or less, he’d be fine. But if Akaashi’s grand inner monologues became too much, they were bound to spill out vocally.

“Where’s he at?” Atsumu poked his head around, snooping around the apartment. Akaashi glanced around with him and spotted Osamu in the kitchen. He knew he was there but he was obscured enough that Atsumu couldn’t see him. They made eye contact, only briefly, and Akaashi knew what he had to do. He had to let the dam break, flooding the apartment rapidly.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. This is my apartment.”

Atsumu stared dumbfounded. Akaashi stared back. This time was different though, in that Atsumu’s eyes narrowed. Like a fox assessing its prey, if they even had any. Akaashi didn’t know much about foxes, other than their slyness. Akaashi figured he was outsmarting the fox himself. Atsumu _was_ captain of Inarizaki after all, in their third year. Akaashi remembered that hubris well from the other side of the net. 

Atsumu let out a laugh, a hesitant one. Good. Akaashi caught him off guard. “No, I think I know my own brother’s apartment. Don’t’cha think?”

Akaashi shrugged, “I don’t know, do you?” He bit his tongue to stop the laughter bubbling up. Atsumu looked around after straightening up a little, second guessing himself. The great Miya Atsumu was being bested by him. Akaashi made eye contact with him as he lifted an onigiri from the table and took a huge bite out of it. Atsumu’s eyes widened and he looked around again. What was he looking for? Akaashi couldn’t be certain, but maybe it was hidden cameras. Atsumu seemed the type to think he was getting punked, if he’d been hanging out with Bokuto enough, it was a real possibility. 

“Don’t I know you?” 

“No,” Akaashi’s mouth was full. It wasn’t dainty at all. But they did know each other, years ago, across the net. Rivals. Akaashi used to be jealous of Atsumu’s skill, used to pick at his hands so hard they’d bleed because he’d never be as great a setter as Atsumu. He glanced down at his hands. There were still scars, faded, but Akaashi knew all of his imperfections. He hadn’t explained them to Osamu yet.

“How’d you get this onigiri?” Atsumu pointed at the display on the table.

“Found it.” Back to less than three word sentences. He couldn’t get in trouble. He swore he heard a snicker from the kitchen and was positive that Atsumu was onto them.

Atsumu was silent for a moment before he started stomping around, looking around each corner. “‘Samu! ‘Samu? Didja know there’s a weirdo on your couch eatin’ your food?” Finally, Atsumu found him and the two of them had some kind of altercation in the kitchen that Akaashi wanted no part of. He sat on the couch and enjoyed the onigiri that Osamu liked to feed him. Akaashi never asked for it anymore, it was just an unspoken agreement that there would be some waiting for him when Akaashi came over. 

“The only weirdo I see is you,” Osamu finally responded as the both of them came out into the living room. In the early high school days, nobody would have been able to tell the Miya twins apart. But now, Osamu was distinctly Osamu and Atsumu, Atsumu. 

“Hey!”

More scuffling occurred, elbows and hands flying everywhere. Akaashi shook his head. He never understood their relationship; Osamu spoke of Atsumu like he was the plague, but one he was insanely proud of. Akaashi didn’t want to spend any time with Atsumu to find out his opinion of Osamu, but it looked like he didn’t have a choice.

Osamu settled on the couch next to Akaashi and took one of the onigiri sitting on the plate. Atsumu reached for one too, but Osamu slapped it out of his hand, a slight smirk on his face when he did. “I didn’t make these for you, they’re for ‘Kaashi.”

“Is this what you’re so busy on the weekends doin’ now? Bribing a guy with food to hang out with ya?” Atsumu squinted at them, slightly annoyed that he didn’t get to enjoy his brother’s onigiri.

“He doesn’t have to bribe me, but the food’s a nice touch,” Akaashi chimed in, speaking with his mouth full. He reached up to adjust his glasses, catching Atsumu scowl. 

“Unlike you, people wanna hang out with me,” Osamu countered, glancing at Akaashi.

“Hey! Lotsa people wanna hang out with me! I’m practically famous!”

Osamu snorted, “All of yer teammates are far more likeable than you, even that Sakusa guy.”

Atsumu gasped as if he’d been burned. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, “That’s just cold! I’m way cooler than Omi-kun.” Akaashi’s eyebrows shot up. He only knew of Sakusa in passing in high school, but there was no way he’d be okay with Miya Atsumu referring to him as Omi-kun.

“Debatable.”

Atsumu’s face was bright red now and Akaashi couldn’t help the snicker that escaped. This was way better than the show they’d been watching. Who knew the Miya twins could provide such entertainment? He’d held so much resent towards Atsumu in high school, but he was realizing now that all he’d wanted to do was appear larger than life. Akaashi knew somebody else who thought that way, though they didn’t have to try nearly as hard, and probably didn’t even recognize they wanted that. 

It was clear that once Atsumu started talking, he didn’t plan on stopping. He invaded Osamu’s space like a virus, leaving no area untouched as he droned on and on, picking at the fabric of the couch, the pillows, touching his bookshelf, going into his kitchen and helping himself to Osamu’s food. Osamu didn’t say anything, likely because what was his was his brother’s. They’d lived that way for their entire lives, and that was a hard mindset to get out of. It was interesting for Akaashi to watch the way the two interacted, how they were so similar yet so different. Their mouths moved in the same way as they spoke, but Osamu wasn’t nearly as expressive and over the top as his brother. Atsumu’s temper also flared easily, and Osamu took advantage of that. For the most part, Atsumu ignored Akaashi, which Akaashi was fine with. He had nothing to say to the setter. But it was only a matter of time before Atsumu turned to him with this look in his eye that meant trouble.

“You’re Akaashi Keiji, right?” Akaashi was a little startled by the question, so clear and precise, traces of his Kansai accent gone. 

“Maybe.” Akaashi tilted his head a little, wanting to make Atsumu doubt himself. He also didn’t want to be having this conversation. He didn’t want Atsumu to put two and two together, how he used to set for Bokuto, and how Atsumu was now setting for him. In high school that would have been Akaashi’s worst nightmare, all the sources of his anxiety coming together in one dark mass.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure yer Akaashi Keiji. Ya used to be friends with Bokuto, ya?” Atsumu smirked and Akaashi could already see where this was going. His heart rate accelerated, rocketing through the layers of the atmosphere all the way to outer space. It was a miracle he didn’t collapse on the spot.

“Something like that.” His voice was tight with more lies. Both twins’ eyebrows shot up, but the difference was that Osamu could keep his mouth shut.

“Does he know you’re hanging out with my brother?”

“I’m allowed to have friends,” Akaashi said bitterly, catching Atsumu off guard. Akaashi was pretty good at keeping his composure, but he felt threatened right now, backed into a corner and he wanted out. He could barely breathe. “Osamu and I are just friends. If you have a problem with that, you can leave.” He stood and excused himself to the restroom, not wanting to deal with the aftermath of that statement. Atsumu was surely complaining, it was in his nature after all, but Akaashi didn’t care. Why did _he_ care so much what his brother was doing, what Akaashi was doing? And were he and Osamu just friends? All the kissing and touching beneath the sheets said otherwise, but Akaashi still wasn’t ready to admit to himself that maybe there was something else there.

Especially when just hearing Bokuto’s name made him ache as if they’d broken up yesterday. 

After splashing some cold water on his face, Akaashi went back into the living room only to find Osamu was there alone. He looked around but didn’t catch a glimpse of the blonde anywhere.

“Did Atsumu-kun leave?”

“Yeah, I told him to get out since he was bein’ annoying.” 

Akaashi’s lips parted in surprise and he looked down at his feet, “You... didn’t have to do that.”

“Trust me, it’s more for me than for you, but I knew he’d keep grillin’ ya. Didn’t wanna put you through that.” He shifted on the couch and the silence lingered between them before Akaashi made his way back to the couch. Akaashi wanted to apologize for saying they were just friends, but there was no label on what was going on between them. They were friends, at the very least, but there would need to be a discussion about anything more, and Akaashi really wasn’t ready for that just yet. Or ever.

“Do you want me to leave as well?” Akaashi picked at his jeans lightly. He was supposed to stay overnight, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Osamu draped his arm around the back of the couch and he shrugged, “I’d like ya to stay, but if you don’t wanna...”

“No! I do... please...” Akaashi was surprised at his own outburst and Osamu only nodded, a small smile drifting on his lips before he turned whatever show they were watching back on. There was no more word on Atsumu, but the anxiety that had come with him embedded itself in Akaashi. He couldn’t sit still and fidgeted with his fingers, picking at them until they bled. He tried to cover them up, but it only made things worse. When Osamu noticed he quietly got tissues and antiseptic cream to put on his cuts, before he laced their fingers together.

It took everything in Akaashi to not cry, because everything was going to be alright between them. He didn’t have to say a word to know this. 

But in the beginning, it was said that meeting Atsumu (or re-meeting that is, they had met in high school but Akaashi hadn’t even been a blip on Atsumu’s radar) was disastrous. And it was. 

The week passed, everything was fine. By Friday Akaashi had all but forgotten that he and Atsumu had breathed the same air. He went to work, did his job, and planned on going home and meeting Osamu there. Osamu was in Tokyo now for Onigiri Miya, which meant there would be fresh onigiri waiting for Akaashi right out of work. His stomach rumbled almost immediately at the thought.

Akaashi had just sat back down at his desk after a meeting with Udai Tenma when his personal cell phone rang. It was odd to not get calls on the office phone when he was at the office, and he had told Konoha and Komi numerous times to _not_ bother him when he was at work. Somehow they still insisted on being annoying senpai even if they’d lost that title years ago. 

“Good afternoon, this is Akaashi Keiji,” he answered all of his personal calls this way, out of habit, even if it was his own mother calling him.

A light laugh echoed through the phone line and Akaashi blushed, immediately recognizing it. “ _So professional. At least I don’t have the wrong number,_ ” Osamu chuckled.

“Force of habit,” Akaashi tried to sound casual, but the embarrassment was evident in his voice. “May I ask why you’re calling?” He glanced around at his coworkers, but none of them were looking at him. He was feeling self-conscious being on call with Osamu. All things considered, Osamu was technically his _lover_. Not that any of his coworkers knew anything about his personal life, and Akaashi would very much like to keep it that way. Yet here he was blushing like a schoolgirl in front of all of them. 

“ _Ya know I love talkin’ with you_ ,” Osamu began and Akaashi blush was back in full force, connecting across the bridge of his nose, “ _but do ya have any clue why Bokuto Koutarou is sittin’ across the street from my shop givin’ me a death glare?_ ”

Akaashi stood rapidly from his seat, the force of it knocking his seat back, his phone almost slipping from his hand. He stared at the opposite wall, dread and fear filling his gut, threatening to gurgle out of his mouth. “E-Excuse me?”

“ _Bokuto Koutarou, ya know ‘Tsumu’s teammate? He’s been sittin’ across the street for an hour I think? Just watchin’ me. He’s in disguise too, I guess, but it’s not doin’ much for him. Hair’s too obnoxious._ ”

“Ohmygod.” The words rushed past his lips and Akaashi struggled to grab his coat off the back of the chair he’d knocked on the floor, not bothering to pick it up. He heard calls of his name from behind him but Akaashi didn’t answer, sprinting out of his office building. He ran down the stairs to get out the doors, which required running down nine flights of stairs and it was a miracle he didn’t fall and smack onto the floor.

“ _Are you alright?_ ” Osamu was still on the line, sounding both amused and slightly concerned. 

“Don’t move. I’ll be there in a few. Just. Ohmygod.” Akaashi hung up so he could run faster, hoping his glasses didn’t fly off his face in the process. The shop was only a few blocks away and he had to do some serious dodging so he didn’t knock people over, not wanting to send their things flying in every direction. He uttered a mantra of “excuse me, sorry,” over and over again as he made his way towards the shop, though he hoped he would only be a brief passing in people’s memories.

When he arrived at the shop he didn’t dare look at the cafe across the street, opting to duck inside. He doubled over, hands on his knees, wheezing to catch his breath. There was a warm hand on his back and a cold water bottle pressed to his cheek a moment later, and through his bangs when he looked up he saw Osamu standing there, looking as amused as he’d sounded on the phone.

“‘Sup.” Osamu said simply before he returned to his post behind the counter. Akaashi only nodded and stood straight, wobbling a little. When was the last time he worked out? Maybe all the onigiri he’d been consuming lately had been putting him out of shape. It wasn’t like he played volleyball anymore so he didn’t have the daily warm-ups and sweat pouring from every crevice of his body.

“Is he still there?” Akaashi asked once he caught his breath and downed half the water. It didn’t help that he was still wearing his work suit and he hoped he didn’t smell bad by the time he got to work. 

Osamu looked out the window and he nodded, “Mhm. He’s actually coming into the shop right now.” Akaashi swung around with wide eyes just in time to see the man himself storm through the door, fists clenched at his side. There was practically heat steaming from his ears, though his eyes were covered by sunglasses and a cap was neatly balanced on top of his head. But it was Bokuto, in the flesh, standing two feet away from Akaashi. The air was pulled from his lung as he stared at his ex-boyfriend, the man he loved for so many years. The feelings were still there, they always would be, but Akaashi was sort of relieved that their force didn’t knock him over. When he looked to Osamu, who was expressionless as he greeted Bokuto warmly, he felt the same butterflies that Bokuto gave him. 

Strong palms slapped onto the counter and Bokuto leaned in, “What’re you doing to Keiji?!” He reached up to rip the shades off his face and there was fury blazing in those golden eyes. It stung. 

Osamu laughed a little, nervousness detected on the edges, “Excuse me?”

“Tsum-Tsum told me you’ve been forcing him to come to your apartment and bribing him to hang out with you! With food! That’s just cruel, that’s ‘Kaashi’s weakness!” The other patrons in the shop looked on at the spectacle and Akaashi blushed at the attention they were receiving.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi breathed out, barely audible. It had been a long, long time since he’d referred to him as that. After a while it had been Koutarou, because when you love somebody you call them by their given name. Bokuto blinked at his name being called and he looked at Akaashi for the first time since entering the shop. He looked crestfallen, almost like he’d been slapped. Surely the weight of having somebody you once loved no longer call you by your name was enough to hurt you. And Bokuto was doing enough damage right now to Akaashi’s relationship with Osamu, whatever it may be, that Akaashi didn’t feel too bad.

“K- Akaashi!” Bokuto let out an exasperated gasp, “What’re you doing here with this guy? Can’t you see what he’s doing to you?” He turned back to Osamu with a menacing glare, “And you, preying on Akaashi! How dare you?!” Then tension was so thick it was suffocating and Akaashi had to look away from the both of them.

“Listen, I don’t really understand what’s goin’ on here, but Akaashi’s his own person. I dunno what ‘Tsumu told you, but it’s not the truth. ‘Kaashi comes around here from time to time, and we hang out. That’s it.”

Bokuto didn’t look convinced, in fact his nose only scrunched up more in anger. Akaashi wanted to reach out and touch him, try and calm him in some way, but he couldn’t. 

That wasn’t his job anymore.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi repeated, a little louder this time. All these accusations from Bokuto, and in extension from Atsumu as well, had made him furious. He wasn’t going to stand around and let Bokuto berate somebody he cared about, just like if the tables were turned Akaashi never would have let it happen to him. “It’s none of your concern whom I hang it with, and when or where. Right?”

The spikes of Bokuto’s hair practically wilted and Akaashi’s chest clenched. He was a little harsh and he _knew_ how fragile Bokuto was and still he spoke to him like that. He shouldn’t have. But Bokuto shouldn’t have come in and spoken to Osamu like that either.

“You’re right,” Bokuto murmured and he nodded as if he were convincing himself of this, “you’re right, I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” He held Akaashi’s gaze for a moment before collecting his sunglasses and trudging out. The sight broke Akaashi’s heart and he spared a glance at Osamu, promising to be back shortly before following Bokuto out. Despite his leisurely pace, Bokuto had made some headway down the sidewalk and Akaashi rushed after him.

“Bokuto-san, wait! Please...” He caught up to him and brushed his fingers against Bokuto’s shoulders, turning him around gently. Bokuto’s eyes were casted downward and Akaashi bit his lip. He couldn’t do this. Why had he run after him? What was he, some kind of lovesick movie protagonist? Or even worse, was this one of his shoujo manga? “I wasn’t trying to be cruel, but you must understand-”

“I get it, really,” Bokuto interrupted, the words speeding past his lips.

“I don’t think you do. We haven’t been together, or even spoken, in two years now. It’s unfair of you to come to Osamu shop and speak to him the way you have. He’s done nothing wrong, and it’s also unfair of you to assume that I’m never going to be with anybody else again. I’m... not sure what my relationship with him is at the moment, but that doesn’t make what you did any less wrong.”

“I know.” Bokuto wilted even more after his scolding and Akaashi wished he could water him, make him the bright sunflower he’d always remembered him to be. “I just needed to make sure he was treating you right.”

Akaashi’s chest ached. It was a different kind of feeling than having frequent anxiety attacks. This pain was right on his heart, and it felt as if it was being snapped in two all over again, just like the day he and Bokuto had broken up. His feelings would always be raw, he was sure of it, but Osamu was helping him pick up the pieces. 

“We’re not... together yet.” Akaashi spoke slowly, reiterating what he’d already said. “He’s a good man though. He treats me right, no matter what our relationship is. You don’t have to worry about me, Bokuto-san. Not anymore.”

Bokuto exhaled a laugh, but it was far from the usual boisterous sound that left him. “Oh Akaashi, I’ll always worry about you.” It was clear to him now that Bokuto’s feelings were still very real too, but they had to let go. Akaashi was sure of this. Holding on to the same person for two years wasn’t healthy. He had to let Bokuto go. That wound needed to feel a little less raw. 

“I know. And I’ll always worry about you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi swallowed around the lump in his throat and he looked down, picking at his fingers again. He remembered Osamu disinfecting them, placing tissues and band-aids over each one and he stopped. “I’ll be okay. I’m going to go now, to explain to Osamu why you attacked him.”

To anybody passing by it would seem as if they were just having a conversation. But the weight of it, the true feeling of letting somebody go finally, only the two of them experienced it. “I guess I’ll catch you later then?” Bokuto asked, hopefully.

Akaashi knew they would, if he continued seeing Osamu. With Osamu came Atsumu, and with Atsumu came the MSBY Black Jackals, of which Bokuto was a part of. “Perhaps,” Akaashi said slowly, “Goodbye, Bokuto-san.”

He turned on his heel, not sticking around any longer lest he make a terrible decision to take it all back and forget everything he had with Osamu. But he made his way back to Onigiri Miya, which was its own kind of daunting. Osamu was still there, helping a customer and wiping down the counter afterwards, meeting Akaashi’s eyes as he approached the counter.

“Everything cool?” Osamu inquired, slinging the dirty dish towel over his shoulder.

His anxiety was back, and so was the word vomit, unable to stop himself from blurting the first sentence that came to mind, “Bokuto-san and I used to date.” At least it wasn’t a lie this time, unlike the couch incident.

“Ah.” Silence followed and Akaashi wanted to actually throw up now, not just his words, but the contents of his stomach too. “Is that why he was watching me?”

“Yes,” Akaashi closed his eyes, “I’m very sorry. He thought he was acting in my best interest but...”

Osamu lifted a hand and shook his head, “S’all good. It’s really ‘Tsumu’s fault anyway, for tippin’ Bokuto off ‘bout us anyway, so I’m sorry about him. All of him.”

Despite everything that had just gone down in the past ten or fifteen minutes, Akaashi smiled at that. It was small and shy, but it was a smile nonetheless. He feels at ease now at least. 

“You don’t have to apologize for him. You didn’t ask to share a womb with him.”

Osamu snorted. That was the truth and he was glad that Akaashi had recognized that much.

“And... I hope this doesn’t ruin things between us,” Akaashi added, swallowing. “I’m getting spoiled by all this good food, I would hate to lose that... as well as your company. I really enjoy that too.”

“Well that’s good to know,” Osamu grinned, “I do like spending time with ya too. And spoiling ya.” He winked and Akaashi flushed, those butterflies erupting even more intensely than usual. “Are we still on for tonight? I was thinkin’ maybe we could go on a proper date. I think ya need it after today.”

He was right, Akaashi did need it after today. But he hadn’t been on a date in years.

“Are you sure you want to go on a date with me? Or date me in general?” Akaashi asked, insecurities rising. He had to make sure. There was nothing special about him, and here Osamu was being the face of perfect and chivalrous.

“Well, as long as you don’t lie about yer couch bein’ broken again, I think we can work somethin’ out.” 

Akaashi’s mouth opened and then he closed it, not without laughing slightly though. “Okay, I think I can do that.” They agreed on the same time they were going to meet up after work and Akaashi left Onigiri Miya with his head held high. He thought this was going to end in disaster, but he had a date with somebody he really liked, and he finally let go of feelings for somebody he loved, even if it was one of the hardest things he had to do. Maybe he was strong than he seemed, and he had a lot to be proud of.

And, evidently, to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed ! :D


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